


this night's almost over

by epoenine



Category: Eyewitness (US TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, First Dates, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-09-19 13:23:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9442580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/epoenine/pseuds/epoenine
Summary: He hasn’t been--the greatest. Okay, he’s been pretty shitty. To Rose, to Helen. To Philip, most of all. Rose is an absolute angel, and has forgiven him, and tentatively suggested friendship. Helen, of all people, understands what Lukas has been put through, and even though it’s not an excuse, she cut him some slack for his behavior.Philip, on the other hand. Lukas would rather Philip hate him, or be angry with him, or--even though it would hurt worse than being shot in the chest--ignore him and refuse to speak to him. Philip doesn’t do any of that. Just looks at him with a strained smile, more of a grimace, really, and brushes it off.





	

Lukas likes to think that he isn’t a bad person. He tries to give people respect, give them sympathy, be someone his mother would be proud of. The past few months, though, Lukas knows that he fucked that up. 

He hasn’t been--the greatest. Okay, he’s been pretty shitty. To Rose, to Helen. To Philip, most of all. Rose is an absolute angel, and has forgiven him, and tentatively suggested friendship. Helen, of all people, understands what Lukas has been put through, and even though it’s not an excuse, she cut him some slack for his behavior.

Philip, on the other hand. Lukas would rather Philip hate him, or be angry with him, or--even though it would hurt worse than being shot in the chest--ignore him and refuse to speak to him. Philip doesn’t do any of that. Just looks at him with a strained smile, more of a grimace, really, and brushes it off. 

Lukas suspects that Philip thinks this is--what he deserves. Which is wrong,  _ God _ , it’s so wrong, but Philip thinks everything he touches gets ruined, and Lukas can’t stand that. Lukas knows that he was--horrible, really, there’s no other way to put it. He’s self aware, he isn’t going to make up some bullshit lie, he isn’t going to use excuses. He treated Philip--really,  _ really _ badly. He can’t put it into words. He blamed Philip, and pushed him away, and hurt him, and used him, and Lukas doesn’t know what to do to fix it. He doesn’t  _ know _ .

Lukas would have to make up for the way he treated Philip for the next hundred years, and he still wouldn't deserve Philip’s forgiveness at all, but it would kill him if he didn’t at least try.

Everything between them has been hesitant, to say the least. Cautious. Smiles shot across the empty expanse of the hallway, text messages checking in with each other, saying good morning standing outside of school. He doesn’t want to be overwhelming. He doesn’t want to scare Philip off.

The thing is, though, is that he thinks Philip’s eyes have gotten sadder. He thinks he can see his shoulders hunched down just the tiniest bit more, his gaze unfocused, his sighs more dejected. 

Lukas didn’t put a lot of thought into it. Well, he did think about it a little, which is why he has a cheap bouquet of flowers clutched in his hand, standing on Helen and Gabe’s porch a little after seven in the evening, but you get the point. It was an impulse decision, mostly.

His hand, as he clutches it into a fist, shakes slightly as he raises it to knock on the door. He taps it against the wood three times, lets his hand fall, and then steps back, pulling in a breath. 

Helen answers, and Lukas can see Gabe if he looks further inside. She’s wearing an easy smile, laughter still caught in her voice, and she says, “Lukas, hi. Want me to get Philip for you?” Her eyes catch on the flowers he’s carrying, and her easy smile turns into one that’s knowing.

Lukas didn’t think ahead this far. “Um, yeah, just--I brought these for you, for--to thank you for--everything. Yeah, everything. I just--if it weren’t--”

“Hey,” Helen says, gently, softly, “Lukas. It’s okay. You’re welcome.” Her voice is kind of--choked, eyes glinting for a moment, before she clears her throat and stands up a little straighter. “I’ll put them in water, okay? Gabe is gonna go get Philip from his room. You wanna wait inside?”

“No, no, I can wait out here,” Lukas tells her, and watches her back retreat into their kitchen. Gabe, as he stands up from an armchair, sends Lukas a wide smile before turning down the hallway to Philip’s bedroom. 

Lukas only has to wait a minute. He can faintly hear Gabe talking to Philip, their voices drifting down the hallway to reach his ears. Helen turning the faucet on in the kitchen, the sound of opening and closing drawers, glass being set against the countertop. Crickets chirping all around him.

There’s the creaking of floorboards, and then Philip emerging from the archway, cautious and confused eyes on Lukas. Gabe murmurs something to him before gesturing to Lukas, and Philip takes his direction, meeting Lukas outside on the porch.

“What--what are you doing here?” Philip asks him. His arms are crossed. It’s not unkind, Lukas knows this, knows that Philip likes to have answers, likes to know what’s expected of him. Hearing his voice, though, seeing the sunset brown of his eyes, the soft curve of his jaw, the arch of his lips, it makes Lukas feel like he’s being punched in the stomach. He’s kind of--addicted to the feeling.

“I just, um,” Lukas starts, drawing in a quick breath and reminding himself to push down any instinct to pretend to be casual, nonchalant, indifferent. He tries to meet Philip’s eyes, only manages it for a second. He  _ definitely _ didn’t think this far ahead. “I was wondering if,” he shoots a quick glance behind him towards the truck he borrowed from his dad, “if you wanted to go get ice cream.” Unnecessarily, he adds on, “Um, with me?”

Philip has to bite back his smile. He lowers his eyes, looks up at Lukas from underneath his eyelashes, and asks, slyly, “As a date?”

Of course, while Lukas’s heart pounds away in his chest, his mind racing, his palms sweating, Philip teases him. Lukas wouldn’t want him any other way. He huffs a little, a smile of his own tugging at his lips, and says, “Yes, as a date.”

Philip rocks back onto his heels, looks at him evenly, and says, “Wait here,” and disappears back inside. Lukas, with every single one of his nerves standing at attention, does as he’s told. He crosses his arms, then unfolds them, because he doesn’t want to come off as cold or distant, instead laces his own fingers together and fidgets that way, winding his thumbs around and around. Lukas can hear Helen’s goodbye as Philip reappears with a blue, zip up hoodie. “Ready to go?” he asks, as if Lukas wasn’t the one to come up with this idea.

They walk toward the truck Lukas drove here, silently, shoulders brushing. Lukas, on a stupid, embarrassing whim, walks to the passenger side of the truck and opens Philip’s door for him. Philip only shoots a look at Lukas with his eyebrow raised before climbing into the seat.

The drive there is spent in comfortable silence. Philip doesn’t mess around with the radio, but only because he spends the entire time staring at Lukas, clearly trying to rile him up. 

The ice cream parlor is a block away from downtown, but it isn’t busy at all. Philip doesn’t give Lukas a chance to open his door for him, instead meets him in front of the truck with an expectant look. 

Lukas’s heart doesn’t pound when the girl behind the counter recognizes him from class. His hands only shake when he hands her the money because Philip is still staring at him, and it makes him feel like he’s on fire. 

It’s a warm night, and there are a few picnic tables in a clearing next to the parlor that Lukas leads them to. The one in the very back is right underneath a maple tree, and Lukas chooses that one only because he likes the way the side of the building has vines growing on it.

“I can’t believe you got vanilla,” Philip says, shooting him a disapproving look. Lukas starts to argue, but Philip continues, “It’s the most boring flavor.” He pauses, gives Lukas a once over, and tacks on, “Actually, it’s pretty fitting. Nevermind.”

“Philip, it’s just vanilla,” Lukas reasons, but he’s unable to keep the smile off of his face. Philip is in the same predicament, trying and failing to hold back his own grin.

“Exactly,” Philip responds, and sounds exasperated. “You could have got, like, superman, or black cherry, or moose tracks.  _ Anything _ . Vanilla is basic.”

Lukas laughs, because Philip is ridiculous and endearing. He tries, “No, no, vanilla is a classic! It’s timeless, everybody likes vanilla.” Before Philip can bicker with him further, Lukas says, “Eat your mint chocolate chip and shut the hell up.”

“You shut the hell up,” Philip tells him, but it’s weak, and he doesn’t really mean it. The smile stays on his face, but he starts to look kind of tired, and he asks, “What are you doing, Lukas?” It’s not teasing, this time. The air shifts and Lukas’s stomach drops. Philip had settled him, eased his worrying, made him almost forget why he brought him here. He might as well do it now, because he won’t ever really feel ready.

Lukas sets his little ice cream bowl on the picnic table before turning his body toward Philip. He looks at the old wood, runs his finger along where it’s split and cracked from age. “I haven’t been--the best toward you, Philip. I’ve been pretty shitty, actually, I know that--”

Philip interrupts him, starts to say, “Lukas, it’s okay--”

“No, it’s really not. You didn’t deserve that, I’m not gonna--I won’t be like that anymore, I promise, and I’m--sorry I was like that.” Lukas’s voice breaks, just a little. With a nervous glance up, he can see Philip watching him intently. “I know that it was wrong.”

“Okay,” Philip responds, quietly. Patient. Prompting.

“I was just--scared. I’m not trying to use that as an excuse or that it makes it okay, I just--” He cuts off, drawing in a frustrated breath. “I wasn’t a very good boyfriend.”

“You weren’t my boyfriend,” Philip reminds him. It’s true, and Philip is only saying it to let Lukas off the hook, but it still makes Lukas ache, makes him take a minute to gather the courage to say what he’s about to say.

Lukas sighs, tells him, “I wanted to be.” 

There’s a beat of silence.

“What about now?” Philip asks, voice just barely louder than a whisper. “After everything that’s happened, you still want that? You still want what comes with it?”

God, Lukas’s heart breaks just a little bit for him, for this boy’s guilty conscience, blaming this all on himself. 

“Yeah,” he answers, and the word has so much weight to it. He’s sincere, because of course he wants that, he wants it more than anything. When he tells Philip this, there’s a small smile on his lips, and even though he looks like he doesn’t believe it, he looks a little hopeful, too. Eyebrows arched upwards, looking at Lukas from underneath his eyelashes.

They hold hands as they walk back to the truck. Lukas was the one to tangle his fingers with Philip’s, and any sort of anxiety he may have felt was worth it for the grin Philip showed him, voice back to playful and teasing, accusing Lukas of  _ liking _ him, wanting to  _ date _ him. Philip, honest to God, giggles.

They take the long way back to Helen and Gabe’s. Philip turns the radio to something soft, something a little hopeful. He tells Lukas to turn down a narrow dirt road a little bit before the house, and Lukas does, driving down the rough terrain toward whatever Philip wants.

At the end of the road, there’s a clearing before the beginning of a corn field. Philip is out of the truck before Lukas can even shut it off. He goes around the side to meet Philip, sitting on the hood of the truck and staring up at the sky.

After Lukas joins him, shoulders and knees brushing together, Philip says, “I used to come here all the time, at the beginning.” Lukas hums, questioning. “I told Helen I was doing homework,” he explains, and lets out a little huff of a laugh. “It was really hard, just being in the house, in the town, so I’d go out on really long walks, just to pass the time. It’s quiet.”

“I did that, too,” Lukas says. He doesn’t mean to, doesn’t like to share that much about himself, but Philip gave him a piece of himself, and Lukas wants to do the same. “After, uh, after my mom died. I climbed up to the loft in the barn and stayed there until it was dark.”

Philip offers him a sad smile and leans on him just a little more. He goes back to staring at the sky.

“I can’t believe how many stars you can see out here,” Philip says. “No light pollution.”

“Philip?” Lukas asks, and his voice almost cracks. His chest aches, right where he was shot. Philip looks at him, his stupid brown eyes so trusting, and Lukas touches Philip’s jaw, gently, as if the smallest amount of pressure could crush the bone. 

Lukas inches forward, hesitant, because it’s been a long time and he doesn’t expect everything to go back to the way it was, but Philip is here, and he wants to know if his lips are as soft as he remembers. 

It’s barely a kiss, just a press of lips, holding their breath like they’re underwater. Then, something breaks, the ache behind Lukas’s breastbone becomes too much, and the kiss becomes--more. 

It’s been weeks since either of them last had this. The kiss isn’t rough or desperate; it’s slow, meaningful. They’re taking their time. It’s full of longing. 

Lukas’s thumb brushes along Philip’s cheekbone, his other hand tightening its hold on Philip’s neck, his thigh shifting the few fractions of an inch to be pressed against Philip’s.

Philip pulls back, trying to catch his breath. “You should take me home,” he tells Lukas. He sounds breathy, all soft sighs and easy smiles. 

“Okay,” Lukas says, wearing a smirk, because Philip said to _ take him home _ . 

“To  _ sleep _ ,” Philip clarifies, but he’s grinning, holding back a laugh. 

The drive up to the house is short, so Philip slides across the fake leather and sits in the middle, rather than in the passenger seat. This way, he can lean into Lukas’s side, his hand on Lukas’s knee, Lukas’s arm wrapped around his shoulders.

On the porch, Lukas has Philip’s hand loosely clasped in his own, their fingers tangled together. Moths fly repeatedly into the glaring porch light. Lukas thinks Helen is watching from the kitchen window.

Philip gives him a smile, rolls his eyes, and teases, “I can’t believe you brought Helen  _ flowers _ .” He leans back against the siding, lets Lukas box him in. “Where did you even get them?”

“I bought them,” Lukas says, “at the gas station.” Philip laughs at him, and the familiarity of it all makes Lukas smile back.

For a moment, they’re both quiet, just looking at each other, revelling in the fact that they still get to have this. Then, Philip straightens up, and says, “I should probably go inside.”

“Probably,” Lukas agrees, but neither of them move. 

“Text me when you get home,” Philip prompts. “Okay?”

Lukas nods, not thinking about how he’s overwhelmed with emotion--because Philip wants him safe, wants him close--and instead leans in to press a gentle kiss to Philip’s lips. Philip’s smile is easy and soft. “Goodnight, Philip,” Lukas says, his voice barely above a whisper. 

“Goodnight,” Philip says, before turning to go inside. He shoots a fond look over his shoulder, back at Lukas. 

Lukas steps back, eyes catching on the light coming from the kitchen window. He can see Helen, watching. She’s smiling.

**Author's Note:**

> am i capable of writing anything that doesn't involve angst??? no  
> i'm on tumblr and twitter at ganymedie! send me prompts! requests! anything  
> spoilers but i'm completely ignoring the fact that philip's mom died like... it's not real in this fic i can't handle it.  
> if i got any details wrong i don't even care i'm just living my life. lukas's dad doesn't have a truck? don't care. i'm god and anything i say goes


End file.
